


Ribbons and Booze

by Ravenshell



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Drinking, Drinking Games, Gen, ShowYourLove, TMNT2k3, xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenshell/pseuds/Ravenshell
Summary: One bottle of rum, one playful cat, and one grumpy turtle wrapping Christmas presents equals a drinking game Raph can't resist.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Ribbons and Booze

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tarin2014tfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarin2014tfan/gifts).



Ribbons and Booze  
  


“Wow,” Raphel grinned, accepting the liter and a half bottle of rum with the shiny red and green ribbons tied around the neck. “Merry Christmas to me!”

“Yeah, knew you’d put it to good use,” Casey said, rubbing the back of his head disappointedly. “Turns out April isn’t much for booze in the eggnog, so… have a cup of cheer on me.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get rid of it for ya,” the turtle replied, stepping in his human friend’s way as Casey tried looking around him into the depths of Raph’s room.

“I don’t suppose… as long as I’m here anyway…”

Raph scowled, continuing to bar his friend’s view. “Ya ain’t getting’ your present. I ain’t wrapped it.”

Casey gave up trying to catch a glimpse of his gift. “Yeah, well… better get on that… you’ve only got a few hours ‘til Christmas as it is!”

“Yeah, yeah, get outta here!” Raph swung a foot at him playfully, even though Casey had already turned to leave. “I’ll see ya tomorrah.”

“Don’t stay up too late waiting for Santa!”

”You either! I know for a fact he’s skippin’ your place!”

“Merry Christmas, pal!” the man called in a parting shot as he left the lair.

Raph waved his friend out, then looked back to the bottle in his hand with an approving nod. Scarpering off to his room, he pulled the foil off the top and cracked the bottle open, taking out a shot glass—one of a set of four, a previous gift from Casey—wiped the dust off with his mask tail, and poured himself a Christmas Eve shot. He let it go down slow, the liquid sending a pleasant burn to his tongue and throat. “Oh, that’s niiiice….” he commented to himself, tempted to help himself to more, but set the glass down and capped the bottle. First, he had wrapping to do.

It was only a pile of nine gifts—for his three brothers, Master Splinter, April and Casey, Leatherhead, Angel and Tyler—but, as usual, things got busy with the Christmas rush, and all the associated crime on the streets, and he hadn’t gotten around to the obligatory shiny paper and bows yet.

There was an unspoken competition amongst the turtle brothers to see who could wrap the prettiest present. Splinter had impressed upon them that every move a ninja makes is precise and made with deliberation, even mundane actions. Thus Leo’s presents were always commented upon for the precision of their wrapping, Donatello’s for their economy, Michelangelo’s for their creativity and artistry, and Raphael’s… because he tried.

He just didn’t get it, or his frustration got to him before he could. His fat fingers were dexterous enough to spin a sai and throw shuriken, but putting paper and ribbon around a box? Total disaster. Stick-on bows were a mercy, as long as the backing came off properly. They often ended up a little squished. And wrapping paper? He was lucky if he managed to get a package together with no white bits showing. He may as well be trying to fold origami, and the end result was often the same. Why even bother?

His brothers would notice, that’s why. It was the one time of the year when he was expected to put some extra effort in for his bros, and they would see instantly if he didn’t even try. Even if the end result looked half-assed, they knew it had been a whole-assed effort on Raph’s part.

So he sat on the floor in his room with supplies gathered around him. Two rolls of patterned paper. Scissors. Tape. Wide ribbon. Narrow ribbon. A whole box of pre-made bows. A couple of empty boxes, for the unmanageable shapes. And a bottle one shot shy of 1.5 liters of rum.

He had swung the door to, but an orange-furred face shoved its way in, followed by the rest of the fluffy orange tomcat. Raph eyed the intruder, but focused on the square of paper he’d just mangled, trying to get it to fit around a toy car for Tyler. A gold bow bopped him in the head from the side. “Hey…” he said lowly, turning toward the cat as Klunk skidded across the room after another bow. After a hard bat, the red bow went skidding off into a pile of junk in the corner. “C’mon, cat, quit it!” Klunk returned, having lost his prey, and started playing with one of the rolls of ribbon, which unrolled across the paper the turtle was trying to fold. He growled in exasperation and stood, seizing Klunk under the belly and opening the door fully to toss the cat out.

Klunk was not about to be deprived of his toys, and darted back into the open room on Raph’s heels.

Noting the intruder, Raph swung the door open again to stick his head out. “Mikey! Come get your damn cat outta my room!”

Mikey looked around the corner from the kitchen, calling back, “Could you keep him in there? The less he’s in here, the less cat hair there’ll be in Christmas dinner!”

The hot-blooded turtle let out an irritated noise, but shut the door after him, trapping Klunk inside with him. Sitting once more to start over and feeling that much more demotivated, he eyed the rum, then grabbed the bottle and the shot glass. “I’m gonna need a lot more booze to get through this…”

After another shot, he stared down at the paper around Tyler’s gift… much too rumpled. He scrapped it and started over, unrolling a more generous length of green- and white-striped paper. Once it was cut, he turned to where he’d set the car, only to find the square of wrapping occupied by Mikey’s orange fluffball. “Get offa there!” he snapped, swiping the cat away to put the car in its place. Seizing the advantage, he quickly wound the paper around it, then pulled one of the protruding corners to the middle and looked around for the tape… which went scraping by at the end of cat feet. He managed to grab the roll away from Klunk and pulled a short length free, only to notice that the exposed edges of the paper would be on the top side of the gift. That wouldn’t do. He looked around for a place to put the piece of tape, only to have it roll back and stick to itself and his finger. In his shaking it around to get it to drop loose, the cat caught the motion and made a lunge for it, catching Raphael’s finger in the process of shredding the plastic.

“Ow! Klunk! No claws!” He stuck the injured finger in his mouth, then gave it a look-over. It wouldn’t do to get blood on the wrapping paper, even if it was a sign he’d made a blood sacrifice for this project. Half an hour had gone by, and he hadn’t managed to get one gift wrapped yet. Desperate to get at least one done, he rolled the paper around the little car again and pulled it tight—too tight, so that the paper broke over one wheel. Raph let out a short yell of frustration, crumpled the paper and tossed it away, where it was quickly pounced upon by the cat. At least one of them was having fun… Raph gave in and sacrificed one of his precious few boxes to put the car in, rolled the paper around it two directions and taped down all the excess. He slapped a bow on the top with more force than necessary and slid the package off to the side. Klunk immediately came over to investigate and lived up to his name by knocking the box on its side. Raph groaned, and the tomcat decided the grumpy turtle must have needed a snuggle, thus taking up residence in Raphael’s lap, purring like a Thunderbird.

The turtle sighed, stroking the orange fur. “Ya need to quit tryin’ ta help!” he said, poking a finger in the cat’s face, then withdrawing it quickly before it could be grabbed. With a grumble, he reached for the rum again. “Oughtta make this into a drinking game, huh, Klunk? Every time the cat tries to help, take a shot.” He poured the tiny glass full, and slammed it back. Four shots in… or was it just three? …and he’d wrapped one present.

Klunk, meanwhile, took an interest in one of the rolls of ribbon, and with a well-placed swat, unspooled half of it across the room. Raph sighed, pouring the glass full again. “Alright, but if I’m found dead of alcohol poisoning in the mornin’, _you’re_ explainin’ it to Master Splinter!”  
  


  
Klunk was having the time of his life. Normally the gruff and grumpy green person and he kept a polite distance from each other. He would tolerate a light petting, but was often ejected from the turtle’s lap space for such minor infractions as showing off his butthole at close range, extending his claws for a good stretch, or even coming back well-perfumed from a solid litter-box session. Thus mostly, they kept an uneasy truce. This evening, though, the emerald grouch had brought out a splendid array of shiny, amusing toys, clearly just for Klunk! And he kept moving them around in all sorts of captivating ways, ways that required pouncing! Some of the noises he uttered were frightening, though as the night wore on, he produced less and less of them, and more tiddly giggles until he finally stumbled across the room to free Klunk of this confinement.

With an armload of boxes and trappings, Klunk’s temporary roommate made a wobbly zigzag toward the tree that had been installed in the living room, covered with lovely things to bat at, which he had been forbidden to touch by the more cheerful green man. The grouch spilled his armload beside it, then collapsed beneath it himself with an immediate snore. His curved, hard back made a perfect surface for a cat to lie on, so Klunk took the advantage offered and curled himself into a ball on the still carapace.

“Yay! It’s Christmas!!” Mikey’s voice rang through the lair. Get up, get up, sleepy-shells! Let’s go see what Santa brought us!”

Half-conscious groans emanated from Don’s and Leo’s rooms. Mikey had shown as much restraint as he could, waiting until seven, but letting his brothers sleep in when there were presents to unwrap was not an option! As Leo and Donnie emerged, at a less enthusiastic pace, the youngest skipped up to Raphael’s door and knocked loud enough to not be ignored in China. When there was no response, not even a moan, he knocked again, but again, no answer. “Maybe he’s up already?”

Donnie peeked around the corner. “He’s not in the kitchen…”

“And not in the dojo,” Leo added once he’d slid the door open to look inside.

A pained moan from the direction of the Christmas tree caught all of their attentions. Rushing over, they could see Raph’s backside sticking out from under the tree, with Klunk perched on his back. At the commotion, the cat yawned, stretched, sharpening his claws on Raph’s shell, and sat up with an inquisitive mew.

“Found ‘im!” Mikey announced unnecessarily and unnecessarily loud. “Merry Christmas, Raphie!” The groan repeated, a bit more insistently.

“Raph?” Leo called, at a much more reasonable volume. “You okay?” The other turtle stirred, starting to push himself up, but collided with the lower branches of the tree, tipping it. Don swiftly reached out and caught it before it went over, jangling the various ornaments.

With a bit more effort, Raphael managed to extract himself from the greenery and sat up, wincing. “Feels like I got eight tiny reindeer tap-dancin’ on my skull…”

“Sounds consistent with a hangover,” the family medic stated.

“How’d you even end up in there anyway?” Mikey asked.

Raph ground his teeth as his head continued to pound. “Remember how ya had me lock Klunk in while ya were cookin’ last night?” he began, and Mikey nodded. “Casey brought by a big bottle ‘a good rum, and, well, the damn cat wanted to ‘help’ with wrappin’ presents so much, I made it into a drinkin’ game. By the time I had two wrapped, I was already three sheets to the wind.”

“And ending up under the tree?”

He shrugged. “No idea.”

“Raph,” Leo started, and Raphael recognized it immediately as his big brother’s condescending lecture tone of voice, but thankfully any forthcoming lecture was preempted by Master Splinter’s arrival.

“Good morning, my sons! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Sensei!” all four turtles greeted in return, though Raph’s was a little delayed and muttered.

Michelangelo dashed in front of the old rat. “Sensei! Can we open presents before breakfast?”

Splinter gave an amused chuckle. “I had thought you had wanted to show your cooking prowess with Christmas breakfast, Michelangelo.”

Mikey whined. “Yyyeahhh, but that’ll take hours, and these guys eat so slow!”

The rat gave a wry smile. “If your brothers are not opposed to waiting, you may open presents first.”

Mikey turned pleading eyes on his brothers as if this hadn’t been the pattern every Christmas since he had been old enough to prepare holiday meals for his family.

“I’m fine with it,” Leo stated. Raph answered with a pained hint of a nod.

“Raph had a rough night,” Don said, heading for the kitchen. “Go ahead and start without me, and I’ll get us all some morning beverages.”

“I want hot chocolate!” Mikey called after him. “With whipped cream! And as many mini-marshmallows as you can pack into the mug! And a candy cane!”

“You’re getting orange juice,” Don’s voice trailed back. “The last thing you need is diabetic shock first thing in the morning!”

“Donnie! It’s Christmas!”

After a few seconds of silence, Don conceded. “All right, hot chocolate it is… six marshmallows and a dollop of cream, that’s it!”

“No candy cane??”

“You can unwrap one of the miniature ones off the tree.”

The youngest grumped at this slightly, but snatched one of the ornamental candies and started working on unwrapping it while Leo started distributing packages into organized piles. As he worked his way around the tree to where the drunken turtle had stashed his… unhandiwork, Leo pulled the small pile out and froze, stunned. After a moment, his eyes shifted over to Raph, who refused to make eye contact as his cheeks festively colored to match his mask. Leo said not a word but went straight to his work, with a hefty dose of secondhand embarrassment. Since the piles were already neatly stacked, the blue-banded turtle had little choice but to balance the eyesores on top of each. Maybe Raph would have even preferred it… the massive embarrassment would be over for him that much sooner. Splinter’s jaw dropped open, and he leaned slightly forward at the shocking sight. Mikey let out a strangled yelp and choked on his candy cane.

Don returned a moment later, pressing a bottle of ‘turtle-ade’ into Raph’s hands to replenish his electrolytes from his Christmas Eve bender, then turned toward the rest of the room and nearly dropped the tray of hot cups. His head too swiveled back around to stare at Raphael. Raph continued to cringe. He knew he wasn’t even getting a ‘You Tried’ star for this shoddy performance. Not even the thought counted, because he knew damn well there hadn’t been any.

A crinkle of paper gave all the turtles whiplash as their eyes snapped around to see Splinter lift the malformed present into his lap. Each of them knew the rustle had been on purpose to attract their attention; if he didn’t want to, the ninja master wouldn’t have made a sound.

In his drunkenness, Raph had managed to bring the four corners of the wrapping up around the present and garrote them with a crumpled, dead-looking length of ribbon, shredded at one end. The rest of the paper stuck out in loops, while the top was splayed outward, with an insta-bow jammed sticky-side up inside the cleft. Raph slapped a hand over his face and left it there.

After gawking at the sub-sub-par wrapping job for a moment, Splinter announced, “I have never seen a present wrapped quite like this before. It is… unique,” he finished kindly. “And Raphael reminds us of the valuable lesson that is it not what is on the outside that counts.” He tore the paper away with gentle motions, and with warmth in his voice and a slight bow toward his most volatile son, said, “Thank you for the candle, my son.”

Don picked up his hideously-wrapped gift, following up on their master’s gesture. Jagged points stuck out from the flat box everywhere possible. He turned it around, contemplating it. “You’ve certainly created an interesting pattern of angles here.”

“Pattern?” Raph asked, scrunching his brow.

“Oh, yes; with the lined paper, it’s very clear! In fact, this gives me some ideas about the shape of the new Turtle-Wing I’ve been designing! I’ve gotta go write this down… be right back. Thanks, Raph!”

Raphael craned around, following Donnie’s path out of the room. “Aren’tcha even gonna open it?”

“In a little bit! Angles first!”

The emerald turtle swiveled back around. “The heck is a Turtle-Wing?”

“Angles we have heard on high?” Mikey put in with a shrug.

Making a face at the pun, Raph turned around to witness Leo eyeing his gift from Raph. Whether it was in trying to show his true feelings for his brother or still attempting to outdo him on some level, it was clear that Raph had gone all-out on Leo’s present. This one had suffered being rolled one direction with red paper and the other with green-striped, bows stuck to every surface, including the bottom (which, as a result, was fairly squashed), and ribbon somehow tying one to the next, for an extremely gaudy result.

Leo looked at the merry mess and sighed. “I won’t coddle you and say this doesn’t look terrible, but it’s only temporary and I love you regardless.” Raph smirked appreciatively. It took the leader a while to navigate the mass of ribbon and tape… in the end it would have been faster if he’d resorted to using his katanas instead, but he finally managed to unwrap the new calligraphy set. “Thank you, Raph. This’ll come in useful,” he said genuinely.

Mikey looked at his with a big grin on his face. It was clear that Raph had run out of paper, and had taped down scraps on the largest sides of the box to obscure its contents, though the neon orange skateboard wheels were still very visible. Though, on top of the box was a wadded ball of wrapping paper, taped on like it was supposed to be a bow.

“I don’t care how it looks, ‘cause I know you and Klunk must’ve had fun. Besides,” he said, pulling off the paper ball, “Klunk’ll love this!”

He tossed it on the floor in front of the sitting tomcat, who got up to sniff it disdainfully, then turned with his tail raised to show off his butthole and pantaloons as he stalked off.

**Author's Note:**

> Too late to still be in the Christmas season proper, and just on the cusp of Show Your Love month, this is both and neither; for Tarin2014tfan, who came up with the "Cat Helps Drinking Game." Klunk in this version is based off the sweetest kitty I have ever known, Gizmo.


End file.
